A Woman's Heart (22 page)

Peter's eyes smoldered like emeralds in a chest of king's ransom. Then he draped his arms across her shoulders and pulled her trembling body close.

As soon as they touched, a trembling of another, more intimate sort welled within. She eagerly offered him her lips.

Desire transformed the lines of his face, softening them with want and rendering them vulnerable. He dropped one tender kiss on the corner of her mouth then ranged up her cheek and across her forehead, burning a pattern of love on her skin. Passion rose, and she met his sensuality with her own.

As weightless as the touch of the butterfly, as intoxicating as a drink of cognac, Peter's lips alighted on hers. Softly, at first, then hardening into urgency, he kissed... then withdrew... then kissed again.

Heat raced through Jann's veins, her nipples hardening and her breasts filling. She needed to be touched, to be captured by his lips. With a soft moan, she pressed against him, bathing in the sensations continuously washing over her.

She spiraled upward on a wave of desire, then just when it seemed she could go no higher, his lips deserted hers and traveled slowly... deliriously slowly... down her throat toward her breasts.

He cupped them with his hands so they rose from the confines of her scoop-necked dress and glistened in the light of the moon.

"I want you," he murmured against her throat. "I need you." He pulled her towards him as though he would never let her go, then, with a suddenness that seemed to stun, for his face stared starkly into hers, he drew away.

As slowly as he'd retreated, her heart broke.

"Peter," she whispered, reaching for him, touching his face with her finger.

Laboriously, slowly, he drew in a breath, as though the mere act of breathing was beyond his capabilities. "You're so beautiful," he said hoarsely, then glancing to the sky above, his lips turned down in a rueful smile. "More beautiful than the stars."

Shocked by the desire exploding within and the numbness following in its wake, she stared past his eyes and up toward the heavens, amazed at the comparison he had made. A meteor blazed overhead, its passage piercing the night's blackness as her love for Peter pierced her soul.

"Peter," she whispered, surrender in her heart.

He stared down at her, and she felt his body go rigid.

"Jann, we can't do this." He turned away. "We have to talk about Alex."

Despair and fear rocketed through her. She'd fallen in love with Peter, had dared to think he might love her too, but their love was as unattainable as the stars, as impossible.

On unsteady feet, she turned away and staggered down the companionway to her cabin.

* * *

Jann clung to her coffee mug with both hands and lowered her face to the steam rising from the hot, black liquid. If only the steam could obliterate what she was feeling, could cover it in a cloak of opaque whiteness and dull the pain. With a sigh, she scanned the sky. It overflowed still with stars, each more brilliant than the lights on a Christmas tree, but each star seemed a lie, for there was no illumination in her heart.

Peter was back on board at last, was sleeping below deck. She had heard him leave as she retreated, had heard the scrape of his shoes against the ladder and the splash of his oars as they hit the water. A sound that had grown softer as the rowboat drew away. As each stroke increased the distance between them, Jann's heart had broken a little more.

It had seemed then as though she had sat on the edge of her bed for hours, although according to the snail-slow hands of her clock, it was only a fraction of that time.

And then he was back, his footsteps quick and determined, as though he felt nothing of the anguish engulfing her. The creak of the settee told her just when he lay down.

Her loins ached to think of him asleep, with his face more vulnerable than wakefulness would allow. She still wanted him, and in a way not merely physical. She wanted his body and also his soul, but most of all she desired his heart.

A lump blocked her throat. They had made love at the Pools, but his heart wasn't hers. The passion they had shared had been nothing more than the insistent pulsation of blood, the magic of the rainbow, and the physical need between two people.

Peter obviously wanted to forget it, was regretting their lovemaking as a tactical error in his quest for Alex.

She cringed with shame to think she'd mistaken it for so much more. If she'd stuck to what she'd known, that to fall in love was to be unsafe, she wouldn't be feeling now the pain she was enduring.

When she made love to Peter, she had broken her cardinal rule. To undo the damage, she had to return to her normal life, had to get back to Alex and feel safe once more. If she could hold her baby in her arms, she might be able to collect her bearings, might not be blinded by passion and the heat of desire.

Acting swiftly, so as not to change her mind, Jann scrambled down the stairs into the chart room and turned the key in the ignition.

The sudden growl of the engine shattered the peace of the tropical night like the revving of a motor cycle might do at a symphony. Hurrying back up the steps, Jann hauled the anchor from the water and steered the boat toward open sea.

She couldn't see Peter, but she heard the thump of his feet when he rolled off the settee and pounded up the companionway.

Her heart was pounding, too, by the time he appeared, pulling on his trousers, but carrying his shirt. In the moonlight, his tanned chest glowed like warm sand.

Swift and unexpected, desire arrowed through her. Catching her lower lip between her teeth, she willed it away.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" He swept sleep-tousled hair back from his eyes.

"Going home," she replied, determined not to cry. But when she stared into his eyes, she was unable to keep tears from spilling.

"I need to see Alex," she added, brushing the moisture away. Not the whole truth, but close enough.

"You're running away." His eyes were bleak and angry. Shrugging into his shirt, he stepped toward her, the tangy scent of his aftershave making her long to touch him.

"Why not?" she flung back. "You did." Clenching her lips, she tightened her grip on the wheel.

His jaw tightened, and he stumbled, as if from the force of the truth she spoke. "Maybe you're right. Maybe it's time we faced what we're feeling."

"No!" she cried, her stomach knotting at the idea.

"You're afraid," he accused.

"Yes!" she admitted then cried out, "No!" She shut her eyes, not knowing how she felt, knowing only that she wanted him with an intensity that burned, also knowing that if she had him, her pain would only worsen. She could scarcely bear the silence that met her words.

"You can't steer with your eyes shut," he said at last, seeming to strive for lightness, but nowhere in his voice could she detect laughter.

He touched her shoulder, and her soul was touched too, his warmth and strength irresistible, his appeal as strong as before. She jerked away, opened her eyes, and with a deep breath turned to face him.

"Where did you go?" she demanded.

"To shore," he replied. "I needed to be alone."

Her heart was breaking and he needed solitude!

He put his hand on the wheel. "I'll take over here," he said. "Make us some coffee and then we'll talk."

Her legs seemed incapable of movement.

He glanced out at the water then slowly turned his gaze back to her. "If you really want to go home, we will, but first we need to talk."

She no longer had a home. Home was where Peter was, and she couldn't have that.

For he hadn't said he loved her.

He hadn't said anything at all.

Except that she was more beautiful than the stars.

Easy to say.

Sucking in a breath, she forced her feet toward the companionway. Once down in the galley, she grimly poured coffee into two cups and set the cups on a tray. The coffee was too thick and too black, but it was the best she could do.

On leaden feet, she trudged back up the stairs, longing, instead, to bury herself in her bunk and pull the covers over her head. But even there, no doubt, she'd be besieged by images of Peter and the joy she had felt when they made love.

Steeling herself, she stepped out into the cockpit and handed Peter his cup. Lahaina was already receding into the distance, the lights of the harbor glowing like fireflies beyond their stern.

"What time is it?" Peter asked, gulping down a mouthful of the hot liquid.

"Almost midnight," she replied, peering at her watch.

"We should make Honolulu by eight o'clock," he said tonelessly.

Eight long hours and it would be over. She bit her lip. Never over, no matter how many hours it was.

"What's the weather forecast?" he asked, glancing up at the sky.

"I didn't check it."

"You didn't check it?" he demanded.

"No, I... I just decided to leave."

Disbelief filled his eyes.

"I'll check it now." Ducking through the hatch, she moved down to the chart room and went straight for the marine radio.

It wasn't on.

Cold water dashing over her couldn't have shocked her more. She had turned the radio off this morning before they left the boat, but she hadn't turned it back on again, hadn't listened at the scheduled air time for possible messages, or phoned Ruby today, either.

What if Ruby and John had been trying to contact her? Had needed her?

She swallowed hard, tried to convince herself there was little likelihood of either of those things happening.

Flicking the radio switch to the 'On' position, Jann pushed the weather channel button down. The reassuring voice of the announcer proclaimed a twenty knot wind in the channel.

Relieved, she increased the volume and turned the knob to the marine band. Static, interspersed with messages to mariners, crackled from the receiver. She listened for a moment then turned up the volume loud enough to be heard on deck.

"Well?" Peter asked, his gaze flickering towards her as she emerged through the hatch.

"The trades are blowing in the channel, but they're nothing to worry about."

"Never underestimate the weather," he said, making an infinitesimal adjustment of the wheel to starboard.

"I—"

"
Heart's Desire
.
Heart's Desire.
This is
Windward.
Are you there? Come in, come in." The message squealing from the receiver faded in and out as though the volume knob was being spun by an over-excited two-year-old.

Alarm slid like ice into Jann's chest. "Alex," she whispered, her body frozen numb.

"You don't know that," Peter countered, his hands flying as he set up the self-steering. "Answer them!" he urged.

She scrambled down the steps. Peter slipped out from behind the wheel and followed swiftly after her. She came to a halt in front of the radio, immobilized, terrified.

"Answer it," he repeated, more gently this time.

Fear filled her heart.

"It'll be all right." His strong reassuring gaze held hers.

Clenching her jaw, Jann picked up the mike. "This is
Heart's Desire
," she said. "
Heart's Desire
here. Over."

"Dammit, girl, is that you? We've been trying to reach you all day. Over."

All day? John and Ruby had been trying to reach her while she had been lost in lovemaking?

"Jann here, Capt'n," she identified. "What's the problem?" She could only pray that whatever it was, it had nothing to do with Alex. "Over."

She caught her breath while she waited for Capt'n's response, wishing Peter would hold her.

"It's Alex." John said, his voice sounding older and shakier than she remembered.

Her shoulders stiffened. Peter moved closer and put his arm around her waist.

"He's in... pital. Over." The radio screeched as static took over all other sound.

"He's where? Over."

"In hospital. Dammit girl. Ain't you listening? Over."

Her hands began to tremble, her hold on the mike loosening. Peter snatched the instrument from her.

"Peter Strickland here. What's the matter with Alexander? Over."

"Gastroenteritis." The medical term wavered with the vagaries of the machine in front of them. "The poor little mite's wasting away to nothing." Now it was John's voice that quavered, not the machine into which he spoke.

Jann sat down hard onto a chair, a roaring filling her ears. Peter's lips were moving but she could hear no sound. After what seemed an eternity, he signed off, and placed the mike on the table.

He looked at her, his eyes soft with concern. The caring in his face somehow gave her some strength and the roaring in her ears dulled to a buzz.

"We'll head back to Maui and fly to Oahu," Peter said crisply.

"At this hour?" Jann cried. "There'll be no planes until morning."